


Fight Me

by welcome2atlantis



Series: Come at Me Bro [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Captain Yahaba Shigeru, Crack, Getting Together, Iwaizumi is a good senpai, M/M, Vice Captain Kyoutani, Yahaba is an asshole and Kyoutani is all about it, next gen captains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcome2atlantis/pseuds/welcome2atlantis
Summary: Apparently Kyoutani had missed an important memo, because somewhere along the line he’d been dealt the dubious task of guarding Yahaba from the richly deserved asskicking some ninety percent of the volleyball world wanted to give him.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: Come at Me Bro [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737415
Comments: 62
Kudos: 539





	1. How to Break the Iron Wall

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just quarantine induced crack. There is no formatting. There is no beta. There is no editing. I’m losing my goddamn mind and now you will suffer with me.  
> HeLp mE
> 
> I almost wasn't gonna post this bc I read Yahaba vs the Miyagi captains (by Blessings and you should totally read it, it's great) and was like 'oh shit, too similar'. But i enjoyed writing this nonsense too much not to share.

Yahaba was a master at reading people. 

He was also a filthy liar. He acted all goody two shoes, and had a giant boner for his senpai's. Pretended to be Mr. _don’t-disrespect-our-seniors._

Then he did exactly what Matsun had told him _not_ to do by pinning Kyoutani to a wall and reading him the riot act. Not that Kyoutani was complaining about the yelling. Or about getting pushed around. He kind of liked that. Which was weird. 

Even he himself hadn’t known that all he needed was a kick in the ass and a reality check. Probably because no one had ever had the balls to try it. Except this fluffy little creampuff whom he’d barely even know existed. The little hypocrite had come out of nowhere, fucking kabedoned him, and thirty seconds and he’d had Kyoutani wrapped around his finger with nothing more than some honesty, a couple insults, and a challenge to prove himself. Kyoutani was as complicated as reading a damn picture book apparently. It seriously pissed him off.

\--

Yahaba was a master at reading people, and he used that power for both good and bad. 

The good was his deft handling of the team. Yahaba had grown into his own style of leadership by the time the third years graduated and a new batch of first years rolled in. His sets weren’t perfectly tailored, but he meticulously learned every team member's individual playstyle and personality, and used that information to support each person on the team as best as possible. He maintained an aura of reliability, an intent watchful, and remained levelheaded despite the daunting task of corralling the absolute shit-show that was their mob of hellspawn firsties. 

Only Kyoutani got the dubious honor of being on the receiving end of a pissed off Yahaba. Though, it was more that Yahaba understood being blunt was the best way to communicate with him. Which Kyoutani had to admit was just another example of Yahaba’s competency.

The bad turned out to be Yahaba unleashing his shitty personality on people other than Kyoutani. 

A little subtle shit taking between teams was normal of course. Everyone did it. But Yahaba couldn’t touch normal with a thirty nine and a half foot pole.

With that intuitive streak, Yahaba would single out their opponents weakest link, pinpoint that player's biggest insecurity, and verbally eviscerate them in a way that was so casual it was all the more effective. If he were being honest, Kyoutani kind of liked this side of Yahaba. It sure beat his good boy act. Honestly, he probably liked this version of Yahaba a little _too_ much. It was actually pretty amusing and Kyoutani secretly enjoyed watching. A nice change of pace to see Yahaba leveling his wrath at someone else. And god damn, Yahaba was a fucking champ at it too. Like he was siphoning pure malice off the evil spirit Kyoutani was convinced Yahaba had a demonic possession timeshare deal with. 

But then everything would go tits up. Yahaba would turn to that team's captain, smiling all courteous and sincere –like he hadn’t just verbally bitch slapped one of their players– and make a small comment. Something simple and seemingly benign. An outside observer would probably see it as just friendly advice from one captain to another– and all of it a cover for an insult so scathing that at least one, usually more, of their opponents would’ve deck the idiot if Kyoutani didn’t immediately intervene. 

How was this his life?

 _Kyoutani_ was supposed to be the hothead ace. He was the fierce and intimidating one. He had a face that Yahaba claimed would scare most small children. Him, Kyoutani Kentaro, with the stupid reputation as Mad Dog (fucking Oikawa) , it should’ve been _him_ stirring up shit, not stuck babysitting their asshole of a captain. 

* * *

It was only a practice match so there was a chance that maybe things could go smoothly. A small one, but Kyoutani still prayed to anyone listening that Yahaba acted like a reasonable goddamn adult and not bully the other team for a change.

Actually, no, he shouldn’t pray for the impossible. 

He asked that, just this once, Yahaba would not incite violence. That was an entirely reasonable thing to ask in Kyoutani’s opinion. After all, Yahaba had gone all of his first and second year without provoking opponents at every given chance, so Watari and the others claimed. Obviously Yahaba had possessed self control at some point.

The bar was low. Very, very low. And yet any hope died a quick and painful death the moment Date Tech stepped into their gym and their #1 raised a hand and pointed.

Directly. At. Yahaba. 

Yahaba and his big round fawn eyes. His fluffy hair full of secrets beyond mere mortals. There was more evil cunning stuffed inside Yahaba than a human body should be able to contain and this eyebrowless man-hulk had known it on sight. 

At least Yahaba hadn’t started it this time… 

Oh. Oh no. 

It hit him like a serve to the back of the head, Kyoutani had zero experience with Yahaba being the one called out first. but he’d bet his volleyball sneakers and every cent he owned it wouldn’t be an improvement. 

For his part, Yahaba looked only mildly interested in the silent callout-post leveled at him, gave nothing more than to cock his head ever so slightly. But Kyoutani knew that look: clinical assessment. Yahaba was already hard at work identifying exactly how best to respond to the challenge. 

Fuccckkkkkkkkk. 

Which one was Dateko's captain? Kyoutani needed to figure out ASAP. Shit, what if it turned out Pointer Man was the captain? He did have the #1 jersey. Kyoutani wasn't certain he could win against the titan if Yahaba was on his bullshit again and an actual fight broke out.

On top of all his other worries he overheard two of the troublemaker Saito triplets whispering together. 

“This is gonna be epic.” – “Keep your phone ready so we can record it.” – “I bet it’ll get even more views than the one where Senseki’s captain got benched for yelling at Yahaba-senpai.” 

Kyoutani marched over and, despite the height difference, got both the first years in a headlock. They both made little _‘urk’_ sounds. 

The one struggling on his left whined, “Kyouken-senpai!” Which probably meant the youngest of the hellspawn and the middle blocker.

“I told you not to call me that.” 

“Kyouken or senpai?” the other brat asked. Yeah, this one had a classic case of setter’s snark.

“Both,” Kyoutani snarled. 

The pair went limp in his hold, like animals feigning death to escape a predator. Kyoutani wasn’t going to release them until he made his point though. 

“Listen up, I don’t have time for this shit. Stay out of my hair, don’t even try and talk to the captain, don’t cause trouble. Step a toe out of line and I’ll make sure you’re both permanently assigned to receiving my serves.” He let go of his victims. The pair of first years both stumbled and nearly face-planted, unprepared for the sudden release from Kyoutani’s bicep prison. “Understood?”

“Yes sir,” they echoed back, looking properly chastised for once. They even pouted like sullen five year olds instead of highschoolers that stood over 180 centimetres. 

“If you keep the rest of the first years contained until the match starts I’ll stay late for a week to help,” –he pointed to the one he thought was the MB– “you practice blocking, and you,” – he switched to the other– “with setting.”

If they're sudden and annoying smiles were any indication, he’d gotten their positions right.

“For real?” they said in unison, which was kind of creepy, but not as concerning as the starry eyed look the middle blocker was giving him. It reminded Kyoutani too much of the way Kindaichi had looked at Iwaizumi. 

Well shit. He hadn’t expected _that_. At least the wise ass one only looked cautiously hopeful instead of– you know what? He had enough to worry about. He was going to pretend he’d never seen a thing.

Unfortunately, it also meant he couldn’t exactly afford to take his offer back either… He could only nod, which made the first year pair whoop happily. 

“Yes!”

“You can count on us sir!” the middle blocker said, giving Kyoutani a sloppy salute. Kyoutani pointed emphatically to the gaggle of other first years and the two ran off. 

“What’d you say to get Tomio-chan and Tetsu-chan so fired up?” 

Kyoutani turned to face an amused Yahaba and a nervous Watari who was buzzing around him. 

Huh. Usually Watari enjoyed the sitcom level bullshit of Yahaba’s pregame antics from a safe distance. Seemed like Watari might actually make himself useful for once. Good, Kyoutani would probably need the extra help. 

“Earth to Kyoutani-kun,” Yahaba said, snapping his fingers in Kyoutani’s face.

He slapped Yahaba’s hand away and growled, “Cut that out Captain Creampuff.”

“You’re the one who was spacing out,” Yahaba said, rolling his eyes. “I need you focused and _not_ in lala land if we’re going to demolish Dateko.”

\--

They were warming up, Kyoutani tossing to Yahaba to set for his spike, when Kyoutani caught Yahaba eyeing Dateko's setter. He chucked the ball he was supposed to be tossing directly at Yahaba’s fluffy head, who barely got his hands up in time to save his face from getting torpedoed by the projectile. 

"What was that for?" Yahaba demanded after retrieving the ball, and looking supremely miffed. 

"Don't even think about it," Kyoutani growled in warning.

Yahaba said, "I have no idea what you're talking about." Obviously knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"I saw you locking-on to Farfetch’d,” he accused. 

Yahaba looked at him like he was assessing Kyoutani for brain damage. "Now I really have no idea what you're saying."

"The two meter setter. His hair looks like the Pokemon Farfetch’d."

Yahaba started laughing so hard he disrupted most of the on-court activity. It was Yahaba’s rare genuine laughter, the ugliest laugh he'd ever heard. It sounded like a braying donkey, but Kyoutani's delusional brain kind of loved it. He also kicked himself for accidentally giving Yahaba extra fuel. 

"You play Pokemon. You giant nerd,” Yahaba gasped once he could get enough air to speak. “This would totally ruin your image."

Kyoutani turned bright red. A part of him was sort of relieved the fuel was being used to burn him and not Bird Head, but even if he didn’t give a shit about his image he was still mortified. Yahaba would definitely never let this go.

"My sister loves it." He muttered. "She gave me Pokemon Emerald for my birthday. I couldn't just _not_ play it." He explicitly did not mention it was him who'd gotten her into it in the first place.

“Cute,” Yahaba said. “So cute, I always knew you were secretly a softy.”

“Eat a dick Captain Creampuff.”

\--

"You are the tallest man-baby I've ever seen." Yahaba said, startling Kogane into fumbling a set. The ball smacked into the guys face. 

“Huh?” Kogane said, blinking stupidly, arms still held up, frozen mid-set. Apparently expecting the ball rolling on the floor to magic appear in the air above him.

Oh holy shit, Kyoutani actually felt kind of bad for the guy. He obviously had no idea what was going on, didn’t know he was so far out of his league he’d left earth's orbit. 

“Annnd, it begins,” Watari said with a sigh. “I’ll leave the captain in your care.” He jogged off, abandoning Kyoutani. 

Traitor. 

Kyoutani slunk over, hovering just outside of the bubble of conversation, and waited for the right moment. At least dealing with Yahaba’s bullshit had sharply increased his patience. 

He’d missed some of the conversation, but it was easy to pick it back up.

“I remember," Yahaba said with a snap of his fingers. "You’re the one who we scored the winning spike in our last official match.”

Fucking liar. Yahaba had known right off exactly who Farfetch'd was. He could probably list the guys stats, his favorite color, and the last time he'd taken a shit. _{Secret fluffy hair knowledge probably.}_

The taunting worked regardless. Kogane had that deer-in-the-headlights look, one Kyoutani had witnessed on many a volleyball-idiot when faced with Yahaba (Kyoutani would know all about that, he’d _been_ that volleyball idiot). It was the look of someone who wasn’t sure if they should be insulted and angry, or if the situation called for the usual bluster and boasting. At least the guy had the sense to drop his hands.

Yahaba kept him on the ropes, not pausing to let Kogane get a word in. “I hope you’ve been practicing your blocking, because I bet our ace he wouldn’t be able to get one through the Iron Wall’s triple block and if you’re game sense and technique haven’t made any progress I’ll be out three thousand yen." 

(Yahaba had not bet Kyoutani jackshit.) 

Kogane got all blustery and loudly started proclaiming, “Of course I have! I got to go to the special first years training camp at Shiratorizawa! And I’ve gotten even better since then!”

“Hm, if you say so. I’m mostly wondering if you fit into the team now. You’re not exactly the brainy type. Oh man, do you still knock Futakuchi over sometimes? That’s always a good laugh.”

Kogane looked like steam was about to come out of his ears. He was opening and closing his mouth, but nothing came out but a weird high pitched whistling sort of noise. 

The sound must have started catching other people's attention, because #2 was by Kogane’s side with a swiftness that was impressively smooth and graceful given the guys' lankiness. The guy looked like a more severe version of Yahaba. Brown hair, but sweeping to the side at a cutting angle. Big brown eyes, but heavy lidded. Mouth a hard line, but thinner lips. When he spoke, even his voice was sharper. “Oi, stop harassing my setter Yahaba.” 

“We were only discussing strategy Futakuchi-san.” Yahaba said with a polite little smile and turning on the unnecessary use of honorifics. The cursed energy radiating off him put the lie to Yahaba’s act. Kyoutani had to throttle his natural survival instinct and the knee-jerk reaction to take a step back from Yahaba. 

“Speaking of which Futakuchi-san, and I don’t mean to be rude,” – _oh yes he does_ – “but I noticed you’re struggling with Koganegawa-san. I could offer you some captain-to-captain advice if you’d like.” 

“I can handle him myself thanks,” Futakuchi replied coolly, and then without taking his eyes off Yahaba, firmly told Kogane, “Go practice your receives with Aone.”

Kogane scuttled away, looking droopy and confused as a chastised puppy. A very tall puppy. Poor bastard.

“Of course!” Yahaba said. “It’s just, he seems to be having difficulty finding how he fits in among the team as a whole.” Yahaba made a face that was probably supposed to be something like concern, and became even more formal. “Meaning no offence, but when I spoke with him just now he seemed a little insecure about it. I just thought I should mention it on the off-chance you overlooked it.”

“I’ll take it into consideration.” Futakuchi said through teeth gritted into a smile that was more like a snarl. (Kyoutani would know, he had cornered the market on snarling.)

Yahaba blithely did not take the hint. “It’s just, he’s so eager to improve and do well, it’d be criminal not to support him.”

Kyoutani sensed an opportunity. He came in and grabbed Yahaba’s elbow, giving it a firm tug. “Oi, 's time to line up Captain Catty.”

“Hush and let the captains finish their conversation,” Yahaba said breezily while simultaneously bracing himself against Kyoutani’s grip. He knew Yahaba was stronger than his build would have you think, the guy had pushed him into a wall after all, and of course Yahaba wouldn’t let himself be removed so easy. 

Kyoutani, scrambling to find another excuse, said, “Kunimi looks like he’s plotting to murder one of the Saitos.” 

It wasn’t even a lie. Kunimi was definitely giving one of the brats the evil eye. Kyoutani thought that one was the wing spiker, but he could be wrong, and his ploy still failed. 

“Kindaichi can handle Kunimi if it’s too much for you Kyoutani-kun.”

“It sounds like you’ve got a rowdy team this year. Maybe you should be less worried about Kogane and more concerned about your capability as a captain and keeping your players in line."

Apparently Dateko’s captain could be just as much a stubborn asshole as theirs. Great. He had the worst luck.

“Kunimi’s always plotting someone’s murder. It’s part of his charm. Which I know, because I keep excellent track of every member of this team. Otherwise Kunimi would’ve killed all three of the Saitos within a month of meeting them.”

“Yes, you’re a great captain. So can you do your job and get everyone lined up?”

Both captains ignored him.

"I’d dial back the attitude princess. At least my team respects me," Futakuchi sneered, eyeing Kunimi, then Kyoutani, then Kunimi again, then back to Kyoutani.

That actually pissed Kyoutani off. He and Kunimi _did_ respect Yahaba. Otherwise, Kyoutani would have been off in some corner aggressively ignoring everyone. Kunimi would’ve killed anyone who told him to ‘go all out’.

Yahaba remained unflappable, replying like he hadn’t even heard the insult. “I’m looking forward to seeing how you’ve developed Koganegawa’s technical skills as a blocker. Getting through the iron wall's block _is_ how we managed to defeat you last time, so I assume you’ve put plenty of work into it.”

"Oh yeah, you wanna see blocking?" Futakuchi looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. “I’m gonna read block your ass straight into the grave you vanilla frosted douchecake.”

He saw No Eyebrows making his way over. It was officially time to get out, but Kyoutani made a mental note to remember that one for later. 

Yahaba clucked his tongue. “There’s no need for such–” 

Yahaba yelped when Kyoutani braced himself at waist level, scooped Yahaba up onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and left Dateko’s captain and No Eyebrows looking some mixture of taken aback, confused, and maybe a bit entertained. Kyoutani retreated at… not a run exactly, but very quickly and with as much pride as he could manage. 

Yahaba complained about the undignified treatment until Kyoutani silenced him with a snarl of, “Shut your demon face hole or I’ll shove a volleyball somewhere very, very unpleasant.” Yahaba made a harrumphing noise but otherwise went quiet, listening to reason for the first time that day.

The team had already gathered by the bench as he made it over with his ill tempered cargo. Watari, the useless bastard, must’ve been laughing his ass off, because now he was red in the face and gasping for breath. Kunimi looked mildly interested, which meant he must be internally cackling in sadistic glee. Kindaichi looked concerned, but there was a hint of a smile. All three of the Saito’s stood there with their phones out and looking like Christmas had come early. The rest of the team was trying to stifle snickers. Even Irahata couldn’t hide amusement behind a stern face. 

How was this his life?

\--

Kyoutani accosted Watari during the break between the second and third set. “Thanks for all your help earlier.”

It was possible Yahaba’s crappy personality was starting to rub off on him. 

“It looked like you had it under control,” Watari said, implacably friendly and without any concern despite Kyoutani’s pissed-off growling. 

After a period of sullen silence that told Watari _exactly_ how he felt about that, Kyoutani asked, “Is there some rule that all of Aobajousai’s setters have to be snarky asshats?” 

“Ya know, I never thought about it.” The libero looked thoughtful as he took a deep swig of water. “But now that you mention it, yeah, at least as long as I’ve been here.” 

“I shoulda gone to Shiratorizawa,” Kyoutani muttered viciously under his breath. That sent Watari into a fit of hysterical laughter so bad water came out his nose. Served him right.

* * *

“It’s like you want to get punched in your stupid, pretty face. You’d think you’d be more careful since it’s your only redeeming quality.” Kyoutani said as he and Yahaba finished kicking the last stragglers out of the gym for the night.

“You think I’m pretty Kyoutani-kun?”

“Pretty annoying.”

Which phased Yahaba not at all. Looking smug as hell, Yahaba smiled down at him. 

His smiles were never sugared like Oikawa's, the creepy ones all falsely sweet like diet soda. Yahaba's were a sharp edged tilt to the lips, almost mean. 

“Maybe so, but you absolutely find me hilarious.”

“One day I won’t stop you from getting smacked and that’ll be hilarious too.”

"No you won’t, you like my face.”

Kyoutani cursed himself and how easily he blushed, because he was sure he was tomato red right then. Worst of all: Yahaba wasn’t wrong. With his stupid hair, hard frowny mouth, and honey eyes that didn’t entirely hide a demonic streak a mile wide. Yahaba's appearance was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to Kyoutani's debilitating, horrible, insane crush. 

Oh god, did Yahaba know? Is that what this was? Nope. Nope Nope Nope.

All of it added up to Kyoutani’s brain sending him nothing but an error message, and he was forced to reply on snarly automatic, “Bite me fuckface.” 

Not so smooth, but whatever. It was hard to think with Yahaba focusing in on him, turning from locking the doors to smile down at him with that same mean quirk of the lips. “You always say the sweetest things Kyoutani-kun."

Kyoutani shoved him down the last step out of the gym. Yahaba flailed, windmilling his arms, before he toppled over and landed on his ass. Kyoutani gave a short bark of a laugh. He would probably pay for that at tomorrow's morning practice, but right now he would enjoy the feeling of watching Yahaba glare up at him from the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I’m gonna read block your ass straight into the grave you vanilla frosted douchecake."
> 
> This entire fic was written specifically so I could use that. 3,500+ words just for one sentence. And now Imma try and write two more for some reason? We'll see if I actually do it. I already have a bit for Shiratorizawa, so if I end up doing more that'll be next~


	2. I'm on Your Side Dickhead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring High was coming up and Kyoutani was desperate to figure out how to stop his captain from self-destructing and getting them kicked out of the prelims. Luckily, Kyoutani knew an expert in keeping control of a setter with a personality disorder. If the Saitos would do him the favor of restraining themselves, Kyoutani might actually live through to graduation.
> 
> or
> 
> Kyoutani suffers and Iwa is a good senpai ft. jealous!Yahaba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never written anything so quickly in my life! Usually I take months. Then again, I'm SIP'n at home instead of working seven days a week, which probs has something to do with it.
> 
>   
> Edit: why must moving the text over absolutely ruin all the formating every time???

* * *

Look, Kyoutani wasn’t asking for much. He just wanted to play volleyball. Which was made fucking difficult when he was stuck on a team that consisted of a libero that watched their drama play out like a Telanovela, a chronically anxious turnip head with a grudge and Issues™, an apathetic middle blocker who was possibly an undiscovered cryptid, a group of wacked out firstyears that made Karasano’s team look well behaved, and the king asshole of them all in the form of their captain.

In Kyoutani’s opinion, the biggest what-the-actual-fuck about it all was how Yahaba even turned out like this. He’d been about as memorable as wallpaper until the supposedly infamous Wall Incident. Name courtesy of Matsun and Makki. It’d caught on no matter how much Kyoutani scowled about it. Odds were good the story was half the reason why Yahaba had the firsties jumping to obey him. 

It was like Kyoutani had accidentally unleashed Yahaba’s full potential for being a massive dick that day they lost to Karasuno (fucking crows). For whatever mysterious reason, it seemed to have something to do with Kyoutani having offended Yahaba’s shallow sensibilities and his gross senpai kink so completely he’d managed to break the creampuff. The result? Yahaba pulled a one eighty from seemingly unremarkable backup setter, to a relentless douchebag with attention issues. And everyone blamed Kyoutani for it. Which was just fucking peachy. 

It would explain why he’d gotten picked for vice captain. It was his fault and no one else wanted the oh-so-rewarding job of wrangling a chaotic-neutral Yahaba. 

Was this another unspoken Seijoh tradition? If the title of vice-captain was actually a cover for what was really the role of babysitting the captain, then maybe he could ask Iwaizumi for some advice.

* * *

_Iwaizumi:_

_You of all people should know that Yahaba has zero chill._

_I think you bring it out of him._

Kyoutani: 

ugh

_Iwaizumi:_

_I mean, he got extra grouchy when you rejoined, which was unusual for him but understandable._

_But then the wall incident._

_I’d never seen him go off like that before._

Kyoutani: 

prelims r coming up, i cant deal w yahabas bs rn

but im not abt to let the bastard ruin this bc he cant help but be a raging dick

_Iwaizumi:_

_Yahaba’s a good captain. I don’t think he’d be selfish enough to risk possibly getting himself or the team disqualified._

Kyoutani: 

u werent there for interhigh

yahaba mindfucked ohgi minami so bad they started fighting EACH OTHER

_Iwaizumi:_

_That’s actually pretty impressive._

Kyoutani:

half their starting lineup got benched

one guy got kicked out for the rest of the toury for trying to punch their OWN FUCKN CAPTAIN

_Iwaizumi:_

_Wow._

_Just wow._

Kyoutani: 

yahaba got called a homewrecker

and a baby faced bubblegum bitch 

im not gonna have a repeat

_Iwaizumi:_

_You’re actually really worried about this, aren’t you?_

Kyoutani: 

yeah. i need help.

and u delt w oikawa for years so

u must have some idea how i can stop this insane motherfucker

_Iwaizumi:_

_I’ll let you in on a secret_

_You don’t need to stop him._

Kyoutani:

uh yea i do 

_Iwaizumi:_

_Hush, let me finish._

Kyoutani:

ur not my senpai any more you cant hush me

_Iwaizumi:_

_I can still beat you at arm wrestling, so._

Kyoutani: 

…

fine

_Iwaizumi:_

_Where was I?_

_Right, Setter Mode_

_You know lots of setters get all hyper fixated and obsessive on-court, like they get extra knit-picky and catch a bad case of tunnel vision._

Kyoutani: 

i guess

_Iwaizumi:_

_They’re still the same off the court, just a little more lowkey._

_You’re not going to be able to stop Yahaba from being Yahaba._

_You just gotta redirect all that ridiculous focus somewhere else. Ideally to something less likely to end in a fistfight._

Kyoutani: 

hows that supposed to work

_Iwaizumi:_

_There’s got to be a reason he acts up. If you know why, then you can redirect his setter brain to something more productive._

Kyoutani:

huh

_Iwaizumi:_

_It works with Crappykawa, and he personally trained Yahaba for two years. I figure their Setter Mode is probs similar._

Kyoutani: 

okay that makes sense

but problem

i have zero fuckn idea why

_Iwaizumi:_

_Watari might know, or at least have a good guess._

_I’d ask the others too_

Kyoutani: 

ok ill ask them

_Iwaizumi:_

_BTW for getting me involved in this, you are now obligated to keep me updated_

Kyoutani: 

fine

thx for the help

_Iwaizumi:_

_Anytime young padawan_

Kyoutani: 

wat

* * *

Yahaba was just finishing up leading the team in warm ups when Kyoutani reached the gym. Which meant he wasn’t _super_ late, but Yahaba would probably rip him a new one anyways. 

Kyoutani reluctantly dragged himself over, trying not to resemble a dog with its tail tucked between his legs. Surprisingly, Yahaba did not subject him to his captainly wrath, only frowned and pointed very firmly in front of himself.

“I don’t trust you to warm up properly by yourself. So sit your butt down and we’ll do partners stretches.” Yahaba’s tone brooked no room for arguing, and Kyoutani didn’t have the energy for an argument. An argument he’d probably lose. 

He sat his butt down.

After yelling for Watari to take over drilling, Yahaba helped him through the first few stretches. Silence was also stretched between them. 

Kyoutani’s hind brain started making a noise suspiciously similar to a pokemon with critically low HP. He didn’t like it.

Kyoutani didn’t like people. He didn’t like attention. He didn’t like being touched. He didn’t like how he could feel the points of warmth from where Yahaba applied gentle pressure at his back, easing him further into stretches. He didn’t like the blend of Yahaba’s deodorant and natural scent and the way it lingered in the air. He didn’t like how it made his resting heart rate register as a panic attack. 

All he wanted was to play volleyball. 

“You seem pretty tired recently.” Yahaba said, interrupting Kyoutani’s building brood. 

“What’s it to you, huh?” He snapped defensively.

“It’s not super obvious,” Yahaba continued, like Kyoutani hadn’t said a damn word. “You’re still going full out at practice. But it feels like… hm,” Yahaba made a thoughtful little noise. “Like instead of your usual feral scowling and growling and snapping, now you’re only kinda frowny and grouchy.”

Well, Kyoutani couldn’t make any sense of that, but Yahaba wasn’t wrong about him being tired. He had a lot more on his mind than he was used to. It made falling asleep ever harder than his usual fits of insomnia did. He’d suffered a couple of… distracting dreams too. He’d wake up, lie in bed, and resolutely ignore the problem until it went away. Then maybe he’d get back to sleep. Which was possibly the reason why he’d slept through his alarm today.

Yahaba manifestly did not need to know any of that.

"Promised two of the Saitos I’d do extra practice with ‘em,” Kyoutani made a face. "They’re exhausting.”

“Oh? Which ones?” Yahaba patted him on the back. "Switch to butterfly."

“The middle blocker and setter'" he said, putting his heels together and pulling them in closer to himself.

“Whose names are…?” Yahaba prompted.

“...” Fuck. He was _so_ bad at names. “I know what positions they play, so fuck off.”

“It’s been months Kyoutani-kun, that’s not very good vice-captain behavior.” Yahaba’s scolding was weirdly not the standard bossy lecture, but more teasing. He even sounded the slightest bit entertained. “The middle blocker is Tomio. The setter is Tetsuya. Do you remember the last one?”

Nope. Kyoutani most definitely did not. “Something that also starts with a ‘t’ sound.”

“Toranosuke is the wing spiker.” Oh yeah, Yahaba was clearly amused by his disaster memory. He could hear the superior smirk Yahaba was undoubtedly wearing. 

“Whatever, you’re lucky I can even tell which one is which,” Kyoutani grumbled halfheartedly. 

“Wait, really?” Yahaba paused, then the warm pressure at his back disappeared. “I can’t tell them apart at all.” 

“But it’s been months captain, that’s not very–”

Yahaba flicked the back of his neck. “Finish that sentence and I’ll pair you with Tetsu for the rest of the day.”

Kyoutani scowled, “Abuse of power.” he grumbled, which only made Yahaba poke him hard in the side. “Oi, cut that out shitty creampuff” Kyoutani complained, swatting the offending limb away from him before switching to a pretzel stretch. A stretch that didn’t involve Yahaba touching him. 

Apparently Yahaba had meant it when he said he was going to watch Kyoutani stretch, because he continued to loom over him. Weird flex, but whatever, Yahaba was a pretty weird guy. Only it was vastly unnerving to be laying on the floor with a very attractive, very scary man watching. Because while being analyzed by Yahaba during a game was always kinda creepy, getting analyzed by Yahaba in normal life made his head implode.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Yahaba said abruptly. “Give the Saitos too much attention and one of them might start making heart-eyes at you.”

Too fucking late. That ship had sailed. It was already very likely to be on a collision course. All facts Kyoutani had been brutality nopeing at till now. Only the creampuff bastard had gone and ruined it for him. Probably on purpose, what with him being a sadistic asshat and all. 

“As if,” Kyoutani scoffed, switching his legs to stretch his other side and reminded himself to not let Yahaba get to him.

Yahaba rolled his eyes so hard Kyoutani was surprised he didn’t strain an optic nerve. “It’s obvious they admire you. They’re always hanging off you, or trailing after you like a squad of very tall ducklings,” Yahaba said, sounding tetchy about it for some reason. “It’s not unreasonable to think one or more of them might be interested in you.”

“You’re the one who says I have a face ugly enough to make children cry,” Kyoutani said defensively. 

“I said scary, not ugly,” Yahaba corrected waspishly.

Evidently, Yahaba thought it perfectly reasonable to get his panties in a twist over Kyoutani’s _word choice._

“S’not like that changes anything.” Kyoutani said bluntly, moving to sit back up. He tried not to sound too scornful about it. “I’m still me. And me is not that likable.”

“Seriously?” Yahaba said, affronted. “You can’t honestly think that."

Kyoutani shrugged indifferently.

Yahaba could believe him or not. It wouldn’t change anything, and he sure as hell didn’t owe the guy an explanation for a single fucking thing, thanks.

“You might be dense, but you’re not stupid,” said an unappeased Yahaba, narrow eyed with accusation.

Kyoutani shrugged more aggressively this time, because apparently Yahaba hadn’t gotten the message that Kyoutnai refused to give a shit about any of this.

Glare intensified. “Tomio hasn’t exactly been subtle, Kyoutani,” Yahaba said through gritted teeth

Not Kyoutani-kun. Just Kyoutani. Oh man, Yahaba was _actually_ mad about something.

Well, that was just goddamn perfect, because Kyoutani was mad too. He glared up at the lunatic looming over him. "Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think," Kyoutani shot back viciously, then demanded, "And why the fuck do you care anyways?”

That must have hit a nerve, because Yahaba flipped from his assbackwards pissed-off-ed-ness, over to steely indifference so quickly it gave Kyoutani emotional whiplash. 

They just stared at each other for seconds that emasculated minutes, refusing to be the first to break until, in a tone that could beat frostbite for chilliness, Yahaba looked down his nose to say, “I like you better when you're honest.”

Kyoutani was about to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, but Yahaba turned away and swanned off, yelling orders to break into teams as he went. Kyoutani was left sitting on the ground to wonder, _what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck_ , on endless loop.

Kyoutani got paired him with Tetsu. 

* * *

“What’s the deal with you and Yahaba-senpai today?” Tora asked him at afterschool practice, both waiting their turn for spiking drills.

“How should I know?” Kyoutani said curtly. “ S’not like he tells me.”

Tora looked passed Kyoutani to Kindaichi and Kunimi in silent question. Kunimi must’ve sensed an opportunity for being a dick because he woke from his half nap against Kindaichi and actually dained to speak. 

“Mom and dad are fighting again.” Kunimi said, sounding severely bored by the whole thing. “Kyoutani unknowingly said something insensitive and Yahaba got butthurt about it.”

“The fuck did that bastard tell you?” Kyoutani snarled, teeth bared.

Typical Yahaba, he’d always been a disgusting gossip, even before.

Instead of cowering properly, Kunimi just yawned. Even Kindaichi hadn’t flinched at the snarling, but that might've been because he was afraid of his friend’s wrath if he startled too hard and Kunimi fell over (the fact people were more intimidated by Kunimi than him was telling). Tora at least had the decency to look skittish. 

“He didn’t have to say anything. It’s literally the same every time," Kunimi even scrounged up the energy to roll his eyes.

“He’s the one who insulted me!” Kyoutani said, wholly fed up with this shit.

Kunimi’s sigh sounded an awful lot like exasperated disdain, but apparently he couldn’t be bothered to expend any more energy on elaborating and went back to napping on Kindaichi. Because he was a lazy little shit.

“I think your fights with Yahaba-san have two styles,” Kindaichi continued unexpected. “There’s the kind where he’s mad at you, like Kunimi says, then that type where you're mad at him.” 

“I’m always mad at him.” Kyoutani growled.

Kunimi, sensing another chance, leaned forward from his slouch to look around Kindaichi so he could pretend he was explaining to Tora. 

"Thosefights are because Yahaba-san feels insecure and says something mean, and then Kyoutani spends the next three days unfit for human interaction and trying to one-hit KO Yahaba with a service headshot.” 

“I see,” Tora said, bumping his fist into his palm in comprehension. “Kyoutani-senpai’s still talking to people, so it’s the captain who’s mad at him right now.”

“He’s the one who insulted me!” Kyoutani persisted, louder this time-- and was ignored again.

He directed his irritation at Tora instead, an easier target than Kunimi (and Kyoutani might've been incapable of being deliberately mean to Kindaichi).

“Call me senpai one more time and they will have to surgically detach you from the net.” 

“Sorry Kyoutani-san,” Tora mumbled it at the floor, so he missed Kyoutani’s face of pained resignation. 

Kunimi snickered. Kyoutani could’ve sworn Kunimi’s eyes were closed, but maybe Kunimi didn’t need to see him to know his face was worth snickering at. Kunimi could probably have been in a coma and still manage to snicker at everyone’s suffering. Probably one of his supernatural cryptid powers.

At least -san was a step down from -senpai. 

Kyoutani stopped, squinted at Tora suspiciously for a moment, and demanded, “How do you even know we’re fighting?”

“It’s just… kinda obvious?” he said, scratching the back of his head and looking somewhere between nervous and apologetic. “You only really work with Tetsu when you and captain are arguing. And today Yahaba-senpai has been all–” Tora made some vague combination of hand gesture that might have been very rude, might have been a sex thing, or might have just meant _‘I don’t fucking know dude’_. 

I don’t fucking know, indeed. Kyoutani had come out to play volleyball, and honestly, he was feeling pretty attacked right now.

Kunimi was just opening his mouth, probably ready for more razzing, when an opportunity for escape came. 

It was his turn up to spike.

“Ready?” Watari asked from the ball cart. Kyoutani nodded. 

Watari tossed a ball and Kyoutani started his approach, but Tetsu botched the toss, sending it too far from the net. 

That didn’t matter, he just jumped high and thrust all his raw anger into the swing of his arm. The sound of the ball's impact with the floor made some of his teammates yelp in surprise. The ball had managed to stay in bounds, though he hadn’t really aimed so much as just smashed it like back in the good old days when life made sense.

He tried to savor the sting of his palms, the memory of the ball's weight against his hand and the satisfaction of slamming the ball with no reservation. 

“Whoa,” Tomio breathed, startling Kyoutani into looking up, only to meet eyes lighting up all big and sparkly. Nope. Kyoutani jerked his gaze away. 

His internal conflict went right over Tomio’s volleyball idiots head, thank god, but Kyoutani was distinctly Not A Fan of how Tomio was beaming at him like Kyoutani had personally won an entire set off service aces.

“You’re so strong!” The kid gushed. “It’s like, the ball was all– shwoop! and you were all– blam! And then it went– pwaa!”

Yeah, that made about as much sense as Tora’s hand signs had.

“It was a really amazing spike Kyoutani-senpai! No wonder you're one of the top five hitters!”

“Drop the honorifics kid,” Kyoutani said gruffly. Seriously, how many times did he have to say it? “Just Kyoutani’s fine.”

“Yahaba-senpai uses them,” Tomio said, his bubbliness fizzling out into a frown.

 _Yahaba can call me whatever he wants because I am weak and will not survive the winter,_ he didn’t say. 

“Yahaba’s an asshole. I wouldn’t use him as a reference," he said instead.

Kyoutani made a valiant attempt to avoid any possible eye contact by starting _just_ over Tomio’s right shoulder. A futile effort, because while Kyoutani missed any big sparkly shoujo eyes Tomio might’ve been making, he could still see the big dorky smile that spread across his face right then.

“Alright,” Tomio agreed, all his awful cheerfulness rushing back. “As you wish Kyoutani.”

_Oh no. No. No, no, no. I have made a mistake._

Kyoutani belatedly wished to be exploded. Or, like, launched into the sun. Anything that promised release from his corporeal form sounded pretty fucking sweet right about then.

* * *

Kyoutani: 

i think i made things worse

_Iwaizumi:_

_?_

Kyoutani:

we had a fight

i think

_Iwaizumi:_

_??_

Kyoutani: 

its hard 2 tell w him

_Iwaizumi:_

_about what?_

Kyoutani: 

i have no fuckn clue

_Iwaizumi:_

_???_

Kyoutani: 

Basically

* * *

Back in the day, after Yahaba took over as captain but before the third years had graduated, he and Yahaba argued constantly. Not the savage banter-slash-snarking-slash-bickering they had going nowadays, but full on bi-weekly screaming matches. As good as they had been at enraging each other, they’d also been weirdly good at getting over it. There would be a three day cool down period where Watari would give them pointed looks, Kindaichi would watch them nervously, and Kunimi would ditch practice and then they’d go back to normal until their next argument. 

It'd been well over a week. 

Yahaba icing him out was affecting the whole team's dynamic and that was unacceptable. Kyoutani resigned himself to being the reasonable goddamn adult. How the hell he of all people was stuck being the single mature member of this team was seriously fucked up, but here they were.

He'd roped Watari in on the set up and recruited Kindaichi for crowd control. He assigned Watari to distraction, and Watari kept Yahaba back after practice, keeping the captain caught up in a legitimately important discussion of strategy and tactics for the rapidly approaching Spring High Tournament. Kindaichi actually got Kunimi to help him get the rest of the team out of the club room at speed. Not an easy feat, since all three Saitos had taken to hanging back after practice and pestering Kyoutani. (Which may or may not have contributed to Yahaba's extended hissy fit. The jury wasn't out on that yet.) But Kunimi staring them down impassively woke Tetsu to the thin ice they were walking. The setter dragged his protesting siblings out pretty fast after that.

\--

Kyoutani squared his shoulder and cleared his throat pointedly. "We need to talk."

"Aaand that's my queue!" Watari declared, bailing out of the clubroom post-fucking-haste. 

"Betrayed by my own libero." Yahaba complained to his locker. He shut its door, hitched his bag over his shoulder, and turned to face Kyoutani properly for the first time that week. He crossed his arms over his chest and pinned Kyoutani with a look.

Yahaba was eyeing him with that same half clinical, half devious expression he got when they went up against a tough opponent. Which always did a little something for Kyoutani anyways. But having it focused on him– his brain immediately blue screened

Error: program kyoutani_apology.exe has stopped working. 

Error: possible catastrophic failure eminent. 

Yahaba sighed with deliberate exasperation, but threw Kyoutani a bone. "You said you needed to talk to me Kyoutani-kun." Yahaba reminded him, still sounding chilly but at least he was back to using that annoying honorific. So, progress?

_“I like you better when you’re honest."_

Right. Kyoutani could do that. Probably.

"I don't know why you're pissed with me,” Kyoutani said pointblank. “Maybe you’re right and I'm a social inept disaster. Possibly."

Yahaba's lips gave a twitch towards a smile. "I think I said something about being emotionally stunted too, but proceed."

Kyoutani glared, but let that one go. "And you're not gonna tell me why you’re mad, because you’re an obstinate fucknut and an emotionally repressed freak.”

Yahaba actually seemed charmed instead of angry. Which made no sense, but whatever, Yahaba never made sense.

"Also possibly true," Yahaba agreed.

Kyoutani pulled out his apology. Such as it was. "Look, I'm sorry about whatever. Can we just go back to you being a dick and annoying the shit out of me?"

That actually had Yahaba grinning at him for the first time in what felt like forever. It was just as obnoxious as he remembered it, with little pockets of meanness tucked into the corners. Aaaand, yep. Right on cue, Kyoutani’s heart started doing a gymnastics routine worthy of an Olympic gold medal. 

There was something deeply wrong with him.

“Such cruel words Kyoutani-kun. You wound me so deeply,” Yahaba said with a beatific smile. Because only a freak like Yahaba would follow Kyoutani’s blunt-mouthed apology with grandiose, nonsensical forgiveness. And as annoying as Yahaba’s standard over-the-top bullshit was to be subjected to, the familiar absurdity was comforting in it’s own strange way. 

He let himself endure a little more, suffering through the idiot declaring, “My heart weeps to know such abuse could come from the lips of my very own ace.”

“Bull-fucking-shit,” Kyoutani scoffed while trying to wrestle his urge to grin into submission. “You know exactly how much of a jackass you are, and you enjoy it.”

“Lies and slander.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“I’m a sensitive soul.” Yahaba insisted.

“You’re as sensitive as a brick.”

Yahaba harrumphed. An actual, honest to god, harrumphing- like he was some wrinkly old man. It was seriously not cute. Not at all.

“Such a fucking drama queen,” Kyoutani said.

“Takes one to know one.”

“Are you five? And how the hell am I one?”

“You forget Kyoutani-kun,” Yahaba said, all malicious sweetness now. “I know you. You literally cannot turn down. Everything with you is huge production. You hit volleyballs dramatically. You throw tantrums when you do the volleyball bad. You are incapable of existing at anything less than one hundred and twenty five percent. You are fueled by–”

Kyoutani shoved a hand over Yahab’s mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle Yahaba’s monologuing. 

“Fuck off, who’s the dramatic one now?” He growled, then jerked his hand away cursing. “Gross! Did you seriously just fucking lick me?”

“What can I say, you inspire me to be the biggest and best drama queen I can achieve.”

“You’re disgusting,” he growled, wiping his hand off on his shorts. Ugh, why was he so into this guy?

Yahaba teasingly bumped his shoulder against Kyoutani’s. “You like it,” he said with the confidence of a mind reader.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t."

Wait. Was this flirting? Was Yahaba flirting with him right now? Kyoutani was so confused. Was he supposed to flirt back? How were you supposed to flirt? Did he expect Kyoutani to bat his fucking eyelashes or something?

“Suck my dick shithead,” he replied, because apparently he was just as emotionally constipated as Yahaba claimed.

He started rapidly smashing the undo button on his life. Not even ten minutes and he’d gone and pissed Yahaba off again. A new record. 

Yahaba threw his head back and started cackling like the asshole he was. Whatever was so funny probably seemed perfectly fucking reasonable to Yahaba, but was beyond the comprehension of mere mortals. 

It was kind of mesmerizing. 

“You laugh like a donkey.” Kyoutani said, just to have the last word for once. 

* * *

With Spring High on the horizon, Kyoutani had buckled down and gotten serious. Not just with volleyball, but in planning to neutralize any threat a rampaging Yahaba might pose. 

There was no way in hell he was going to let shitty Yahaba and his demon brain parasite ruin this. It didn’t matter that Yahaba could make him get all melty on the inside when he smiled the right way, or how he tried not to enjoy Yahaba’s new habit of slinging an arm over his shoulders at random, or that he’d recently walked into a wall because he was starting at Yahaba’s ass. If Kyoutani had to shove their captain in front of a bus to keep the team from getting disqualified, he’d damn well do it.

(He really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He was too fond of the unbelievable motherfucker of a human being.)

They were going to dominate the prelims, annihilate Karasuno in the finals, and take their spot at Nationals.

To make that happen, he needed help. 

* * *

Kyoutani: 

so i asked the others abt it

why they think yahabas gone feral

_Iwaizumi_

_What’d they say?_

Kyoutani: 

watari says hes a competitive primadonna w something to prove

kindaichi says its his way of asserting dominance over other teams

kunimi says hes always been a showoff n i mustve given him rabies when i came back so i have no one to blame but myself for making him like this

_Iwaizumi:_

_Wow_

_Kunimi is even more brutal than I remember._

Kyoutani: 

the triplet hellspawn overheard me askn

they said it was bc yahaba was queen bitch tm

they legit said tm out loud

i made em run laps til they puked

_Iwaizumi:_

_Harsh_

Kyoutani: 

i have enough problems w out them starting shit

maybe if i let kunimi kill one of em the lesson will stick

_Iwaizumi:_

_Well, I personally think that Watari’s closest to the mark._

_But it still feels a bit off._

_More like Oikawa than Yahaba imo._

_What do you think?_

Kyoutani: 

idk 

ive been too busy keeping his ass unkicked

_Iwaizumi:_

_Lmao_

_Fair enough_

_Give it a try though_

Kyoutani: 

im the worst person to ask abt people n feelings n shit

_Iwaizumi:_

_No shit sherlock_

_Try anyways please_

Kyoutani: 

UGH fine

obvi whatev it is is making him batshit

and from what i can tell the thing that pisses him off most is being ignored

i guess thatd mean hes being an asshole or showing off to be unignored

so like

he wants attention or smthn

_Iwaizumi:_

_I think you’re on the right track._

Kyoutani: 

but he has all the team bowing down to him

n all the other teams know abt him now

so who the fucks attention does he want

_Iwaizumi:_

_That’s the key question isn’t it._

_Find it and you’ll unlock the answer._

Kyoutani: 

ugh

got any ideas who

_Iwaizumi:_

_Yeah, but I think you’ve got to figure this one out on your own man._

Kyoutani: 

WTF 

why the hell not

_Iwaizumi:_

_He’s your setter and you’re his ace._

_You need to understand him better than anyone._

Kyoutani: 

i do NOT want to understand him

even if i could

hes an absolute madman

_Iwaizumi:_

_Trust me, I know about that better than anyone._

_just be glad you don't have to understand Oikawa_

_At least Yahaba doesn’t try to hide his crazy_

Kyoutani: 

isnt he ur best friend since like 4ever

_Iwaizumi:_

_Yep_

_I’ve known that idiot backwards, forwards, right, left, up and down since we were seven._

_He has the shittiest personality known to mankind._

_He is the absolute worst._

Kyoutani: 

wat

_Iwaizumi:_

_It’s a mild form of stockholm syndrome._

_Look, you want to make nationals right?_

Kyoutani

fuckn obvi

_Iwaizumi:_

_If you can’t understand your setter then you’re not syncing fully._

_If you’re not syncing, you’re not reaching your maximum potential as a pair._

_It’s part of why teams like Fukurodani, Inarizaki, and Karasuno are so strong._

_Bokuto and Akashi, the Miya twins, Shorty and Kageyama._

Kyoutani: 

fuck 

i hate that ur making sense

_Iwaizumi:_

_Think of it as a training exercise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally said this chap would be with Shiratorizawa, but that didn't happen... the next one will be tho. Promise!
> 
> Thanks to ya'll who read/kudos-ed/reviewed -kissy face emoji-


	3. Clipping an Eagles Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go up against Shiratorizawa, Kyoutani comes armed with a secret weapon, and things escalate quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyeeee, it's ya girl, back at it again. Got some more cracked out team Seijoh for ya'll.
> 
> @ plaincrepe and Kms22 for their contributions ;)  
> @ uncle rick riodan for the phrase 'significant annoyance'

* * *

Yahaba raised a hand and pointed to a kid with an unfortunate bowl cut. Kyoutani _immediately_ smacked the hand down, hoping Yahaba’s bout of insanity had gone unnoticed. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed fiercely. 

“Why? It’s fun,” Yahaba said flippantly. “I see why Aone-san likes it so much.”

“ _You’re_ not a goliath, you fucking fruit loop.”

“You’re no fun."

"And you're obnoxious."

"Well, you're–” Yahaba started to say, but Kunimi interrupted with his stage-mumbling. 

"Get a room.”

Kyoutani looked over to see Kunimi making that dumb blep-tongue face. Standing beside him, Kindaichi actually had the gall to laugh, even if he did try to smother it with a hand, and in the back was Tetsu all smirky and in his hand-

"Put your damn phone away before I launch it into the fucking stratosphere!" He barked out. 

"But Kyouken-san, I'm texting my mom," Tetsu deadpanned like it wasn’t obvious he was recording. 

"Don’t test me Saito." 

Kyoutani didn't snarl the threat, or even growl it, but Tetsu, being the smartest of the hellspawn (smart being subjective), was able to read between the deceptively calm lines.

The cheeky little dickwaffle went to put his phone away.

"You gonna make him run laps ‘till he pukes again?" Kindaichi asked, wavering between concerned and entertained. 

"Probably not," Yahaba said before Kyoutani could say as much, slinging an arm around Kyoutani's shoulders and grinning at the others while Kyoutani tried not to suffer a fatality. It'd be pretty fucking suspicious if he just passed out from heart failure due to the casual physical contact.

It was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary for Yahaba, who did all the time with others and had been subjecting Kyoutani to it with increasing frequency. Normally Kyoutani could handle it, but the combo attack of devious-smile and shoulder-touch was going to KO him if it lasted much longer.

“Though, I certainly will," Yahaba added, horribly/thankfully unaware of his emotional turmoil. "The first years should know how I feel about insubordination by now."

“Enter: the benevolent dictator, Yahaba Shigeru,” Kunimi said. “Exeunt: Fools, pursued by a bear.” 

“Did you just call me a bear Kunimi-kun?”

“I plead the fifth.”

Watari cleared his throat, and jutted his chin over to the waiting ref. “I think it’s time for you to flip for receiving side Captain.”

“Ah, the burdens of captain-dom,” Yahaba sighed mournfully and disengaged from Kyoutani to wander over.

Kyoutani had only partial awareness of the conversation and what came after. His brain too preoccupied with running a diagnostics check. Only when released from Yahaba’s grasp did his brain start rebooting. And when he came back online it was to Watari just starting to get control of a laughing fit, Kindaichi biting his lip and fighting a smile, and Kunimi looking something other than bored for once. 

Apparently Kyoutani had missed something.

Kunimi pointed at him.

“That,” he said to Kindaichi conspiratorially. “That is the face of a broken man.”

“Oh my god!” Watari exclaimed, and started up chuckling again. “Oh my god, you’ve got it so bad!”

Kyoutani wanted nothing more than to lie face-down on the floor and make distressed whale sounds. Only the reminder that he needed to avoid trashing his remaining pride beyond redemption kept him upright. “Fuck off!” He snarled, trying to embody the mad dog they'd named him in a valiant attempt to save metaphorical face. His physical face was, in all likelihood, a stunning shade of red right now.

Which apparently killed any of the intimidation factor he'd been going for real dead given how Watari started laughing harder. 

“I mean, I knew you were into him, but-” he tried to say, but shook his head -at Kyoutani's sad crush? Or at his inability to finish the sentence?- and the libero managed a last “Oh my god,” before he doubled over and had another laughing fit. 

Watari’s ability to form complete sentences might've been broke, but Kunimi still had a salt content equal to the Pacific Ocean and he was happy to share. “He could jump-serve a ball at seventy miles an hour into your face and you’d thank him for it.”

“Eat an entire bag of dicks,” Kyoutani growled around gritted teeth, his fists clenched and ready to snap.

“To be fair Kyoutani,” Kindaichi said. “If anyone else tried to put their arm over your shoulder, you would snap it in half.” 

What the fuck, even Kindaichi was turning traitor. When had the guy even managed to grow a backbone?

“You two are such disaster gays. It’s painful to watch.”

“The fuck did you just call me you little cryptid dipshit?” He snarled at Kunimi.

"Cryptid?" Kindaichi asked.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Watari gasped.

"Sad," Kunimi added.

"Shut up!" Kyoutani snarled. He glared at each of his tool teammates in turn. “Shut the fuck up or I will glue your mouths shut.”

“With what glue?” Kunimi asked, because of course Kunimi would. “Gonna zip over to an office supply store?”

Kyoutani stomped over to his bag, ripped it open, and brandished the bottle of superglue he’d stashed. 

Kunimi actually looked somewhere in the realm of impressed. “I can honestly say I did not see that one coming.”

“Don’t test me.” Kyoutani warned, brandishing his weapon indiscriminately. 

“Calm down Kyoutani,” Watari said, laughter replaced by his best soothing voice. Which was usually Extremely Effective but– 

“Did I fucking stutter?” Kyoutani said with deadly calm. When no one responded, he pointed his glue warningly at Kindaichi and Kunimi. “You two. Go.” And he must have maintained that last shred of respect, because Kindaichi backed away slowly and Kunimi had already disapperated via witchcraft or whatever.

“You,” he aimed his adhesive weapon at Watari next. “You owe me.”

“Don’t shoot,” Watari said, hands up and probably only halfway joking. He cocked his head. “Owe you for what though?”

“Last time. With Dateko. For ditching me.”

“I suppose I do, huh,” Watari admitted and let his arms drop. “What can I do for our favorite vice captain."

“If I’m stuck with Captain Creampuff, you get first year duty.”

“Ouch man, hitting where it hurts.” 

Kyoutani scowled. “Wanna switch?”

“Nooooo,” Watari said emphatically. “Thanks. I’m good. A Yahaba-Shirabu showdown would be my last pick for moderating.”

Oh man, that does not not bode well.

“Why?” Kyoutani asked, bracing for the worst. “Do you know what Yahaba’s gonna do?”

Watari turned his palms face up and shrugged. “No idea. All I know is this: both Shirabu and Yahaba have flash-fire tempers and excel at pushing people's buttons.”

“Of fucking course they do,” Kyoutani said, his sense of dread having ratcheted up far enough he’d passed over into detached fatalism. “And the shitty creampuff has probably already found every one of that ego-maniacal, Mankey-looking motherfucker’s buttons by now.”

“Yep,” Watari said cheerfully and gave him a friendly slap on the back. “We’ll be in your care vice captain.”

Coming back to play on this team was a fucking mistake. 

* * *

The countdown till crisis tick, tick, ticked away, and Kyoutani couldn’t help his growing morbid curiosity. Sure, he hated the Showdown Of The Captains portion of the event, but the pregame –Yahaba doing his level best to rip an opponent's ego into itty bitty tatters– oh man, Kyoutani was disturbingly into Yahaba getting all scathing and snide. It was possibly sort of _a thing_ for him. Which was fucked up for any number of reasons and would probably come round to bite him in his enabling ass later– but here he was.

He knew Yahaba’s target, so Kyoutani got to play the waiting game while keeping a watchful eye on Captain Creampuff and baby Bowl Cut. And wow, side note– Ushiwaka jr. kinda looked like a villager from Animal Crossing. Creepy.

“I hear that you’re Shirtatorizawa’s ace now Goshiki-kun,” Yahaba said brightly. “And in your second year too. That’s truly impressive!”

Bowl Cut blinked rapidly, probably just as surprised as Kyoutani to hear something so… non-hostile, come from the demon captain of Seijoh.

“I– thank you? Yahaba-san?” 

“You’ve definitely got some big shoes to fill, the pressure must be pretty intense. Not to mention how everyone _knows_ now.”

The kids' thick brows crumple together in a severe v-shape, but the fool didn’t see the trap closing around him. 

“Knows what?”

“Oh Goshiki-kun,” Yahaba sounded sympathetic, but he was smiling his demon-possession smile. “Everyone knows Shiratorizawa is a one trick pony now. Always with the left cannon and the height. Always so inflexible. Maybe if your team tried something new more than once a century you wouldn’t have lost to Karasuno last year. All they had to do was come up with an anti-Ushijima strategy and–” Yahaba –ridiculous, childish Yahaba– made a thumbs down gesture and blew a raspberry. “And you’re just a shorter, sub-par, copy-paste of Ushijima-san; who probably peaked in middle school. There’s really not much to be concerned about.” 

All Bowl Cut could get out of his mouth were different varieties of offended squawking sounds and, honestly, Kyoutani couldn’t blame him. He’d never witnessed Yahaba obliterate someone that fast.

On the other hand, it was increasingly likely that Kyoutani was now more than halfway in love. This most recent case of his Yahaba-induced existential crisis had to be put on hold though, because shit got real. 

Shirabu Kenjiro emerged from the void– poker face in place, emo side bang at a sharp angle, rod up his ass, and ready to throw down. 

“Nothing to be concerned about,” captain Shittybu repeated, coolly indifferent. “That’s rather presumptuous Yahaba.”

“I was only answering Goshiki-kun’s question,” Yahaba said, turning all of his fake-ass charm on to eleven (ugh). “No offense intended Shirabu-san, it was simply an explanation of why I think Aoba Johsai will come out the winner of our match.”

“That seems unlikely, considering your team couldn’t beat us even when it had a decent setter.” 

Oh holy shit. Watari hadn’t been kidding about this lean, mean, salt making machine. Only someone equal in their ability to be so extremely petty, extremely ruthless, and extremely lacking in self-preservation would dare to wordlessly call Yahaba a discount Oikawa.

“Maybe so,” Yahaba replied with alarming blandness. “But unlike Shiratorizawa, we don’t add our players' strengths, we multiply. Six players who are strong are the strongest.”

“Multiplying zero with anything is still equal to zero.”

Yahaba gave a polite, tinkling bell of a laugh. One whose sound had Kyoutani’s instincts screaming for him to back the fuck up and maybe catch a plane for remote South America.

“Cute,” Yahaba said– and uh oh, it looked like the fluffy bastard was starting to smile. “But not too convincing coming from a team who got knocked out of Interhigh during their first game.”

One of Shirabu's eyes twitched. _Just_ the slightest of tics, but one that probably signaled this pretentious piece of shit was about two verbal bitchslaps away from screeching. 

“By Dateko. Who Seijoh also lost to.”

“Seijoh didn’t lose in straight sets.”

A tense silence descended as the two stared one another down for what felt like a subjective forever and a half. Kyoutani had a weird feeling that in every barbed blink, each furrow of a perfectly plucked brow, and any slight narrowing of their eyes carried it’s own insult across the net, like little, invisible, pointy knives. Sharp eyeball daggers.

Bowl Cut looked like he was about to pee himself and muttered something like ‘ _not the lecture glar e_ _’._

"It must be frustrating Shirabu-kun,” Yahaba finally said, with a mournful shake of his fluffy head and abandoning any pretense of polite conversation. "All your parents' money, and you _still_ can’t afford actual skill. To be frank, Shiratorizawa isn’t much of a hurdle without Ushijima-san. You're more like a road bump on the way to the more interesting teams.”

_{"Whoop, there it is," someone from Seijoh said sotto voce.}_

Okay, so it wasn’t like Shiratorizawa didn’t deserve every single one of Yahaba’s insults. Because fuck those guys with a rake, pointy side up. Except, Yahaba had gone and pushed _all of the buttons,_ and now the over-groomed Mankey started advancing on Yahaba with killer intent, flanked by mini-Ushiwaka and two others, all with similar murderous expressions. 

Without a real plan, Kyoutani pushed his way between Yahaba and the net. “Oi, shitdick, time to go,” he said in an attempt to capture the guys attention. Yahaba blatantly ignored him in favor of having another go at taunting Captain Shittybu via intense eye contact.

Kyoutani –fueled by panic and instinct and absolutely zero brain thoughts– grabbed Yahaba’s dumb face and kissed him. 

It was a quick press of lips, and had probably looked more like he’d just headbutted Yahaba then anything else (bastard fucking deserved it). It'd been impulsive, stupid, but it sure as hell got Yahaba’s attention. So, now Kyoutani just needed to keep it. 

"Yahaba, I might like you," Kyoutani leveled with him. "But I swear to god, if you don't turn your ass around this instant I will do a murder and make sure they never find where I bury your crazy ass."

Yahaba blinked owlishly for brief moments, but was quick to recover. "You like my ass too much to bury it."

Shittybu started making fake retching sounds, and Yahaba peaked over Kyoutani's shoulder with his best Unimpressed Look. "Oh Shirabu-kun, jealousy isn't a good look for you. Just because _you_ failed to woo your man–"

Kyoutani squished Yahaba's face between his palms, getting right in his face, and forced the idiot to look exclusively at him. 

" _Shigeru_ ," he said severely, but Yahaba just rolled his eyes and tried to keep glaring insults some more. 

_Is kissing the fucker on-court honestly not enough? How the hell else am I supposed to keep Yahaba’s attention? Declare my undying love? Give him a fucking strip tease? Wait-_

_Attention. Honesty. Yahaba._

_Fuck, I’m dumb._

Now that Kyoutani had blasted his third-eye wide open he blurted out, "You have to the count of five before I go and kiss Tomio instead."

Those were the magic words apparently.

Yahaba latched onto him, calloused fingers twined in a vice around and between Kyoutani’s own as Yahaba towed him away. It was some of the most aggressive hand holding ever. Sorta like Yahaba was afraid Kyoutani would come to his senses and run for it the moment Yahaba loosened his grip even the slightest. Which he seriously didn’t need to worry about– what with Kyoutani being so grossly, Disney Princess level, head-over-heels over this stupid guy with his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid honey eyes. Ugh. 

"Jealous bastard." Kyoutani tried (and failed) to say gruffly, while making absolutely no move to escape from the deathgrip hand-holding, and he didn't even drag his feet as Yahaba dragged him over to the bench.

"I haven't spent _months_ trying to get your attention only to lose to that overlarge man-child or any of his reprobate brothers." Yahaba retorted. 

Real talk: Kyoutani was still kind of in shock about that fact. Yahaba knew everything about everyone, so how the guy had missed Kyoutani's demented crush was just fucking bizarre-o.

“Speaking of reprobate brothers.” Kyoutani jumped at Kunimi’s voice and sudden proximity. He hadn't expected the guy to, like, shadow teleport right next to him. “I think you’ve broken one and a half hearts,” and Kunimi tilted his head meaningfully towards the Saitos– only one had their phone out.

“Tetsu, how many times do I have to tell you to put the damn phone away?” Kyoutani demanded. (What the fuck was this kid even doing with these videos anyways?)

“One more time; as always Kyouken-san.” Tetsu replied with a big shiteating grin dominating his face.

Yahaba was less impressed. He stopped in front of the setter, snapped his fingers, and laid his hand palm up. Tetsu cogitated, but when Yahaba raised one eyebrow and crooked two fingers meaningfully the brat reluctantly handed the phone over. 

“You get it back at the end of the match,” Yahaba said, using his most irritating lecturing voice. “Whether or not it’ll be functional depends on if I hear you call him Kyouken again, in which case I’ll let him spike it at your head.”

Tetsu looked like he was going to complain, but Watari gave a subtle shake of the head and drew a finger across his throat. 

“Um, Yahaba-senpai,” Tora started to say, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and his usual ego-driven bluster gone. “Did Kyoutani just– er, I mean, I– can I ask, maybe… are you two–” he made those vague hand gestures. 

“We’re dating.” Yahaba said firmly.

“What?!” the exclamation just burst out of Kyoutani without thought. “I absolutely never agreed to date you dickhead!”

He received Yahaba’s Not Impressed look. “You just confessed to me in front of two teams, plus audience.”

“That was a threat, not a confession! And liking you doesn’t immediately mean I’d date your crazy ass!”

“Then explain this you diva!” An irritated Yahaba gestured meaningfully to where their hands were still aggressively interlocked. 

Kyoutani was embarrassed to admit that the contact felt so natural he’d actually forgotten about it. Naturally, he covered the embarrassment by yelling some more. “I don’t want to hear that shit from the Drama Queen of the Court!”

“Oh, you wanna see dramatic?! I’ll show you dramatic!” he shouted back.

And Yahaba, the audacious motherfucker, _got down on one knee_. 

Still holding Kyoutani’s hand, he proclaimed for all to hear, "Kyoutani Kentaro –socially inept, emotionally stunted ace of mine– inquiring minds would like to know if you would do me the great honor of dating me, going steady, embarking upon a monogamous relationship. ie being my boyfriend, romantic partner, significant other–"

"Significant annoyance is more like it," he grumbled for Yahaba’s ears alone, then barked, "Fine! I'll date you as long as you shut the fuck up about it! Jesus!"

Yahaba smiled meanly and finally let go of Kyoutani's hand. He stood, dusting his knees off for effect, and turned back to a dismayed Tora, a delighted Tetsu, and a devastated Tomio.

"We're dating," he repeated unnecessary.

How was this his life?

* * *

It was hard won, but when Kyoutani tooled Bowl Cut and Shittybu’s block for match point and his team of screaming idiots descended on him like the pack of wild animals they are, even Kyoutani couldn’t help grinning like a punk-ass kid. There was a pure joy in hearing Iwaizumi cheering himself hoarse from the stands, accompanied by Hanamaki and Matsukawa whooping like idiots, and a lesser joy in hearing Oikawa’s dulcet shrieking. As they lined up to shake hands, Kyoutani made sure he ended up across from Shirabu so he could mouth the words _discount Yahaba_ , and took great pleasure in the way the stuck-up little shithead’s face turned an outrage-tinged purple, one concerningly similar to his jersey’s color. 

The bus ride back to school was... weird. 

Instead of sitting side by side as they usually did, now Yahaba was practically snuggled against Kyoutani’s side, scribbling in his volleyball diary thing. This new causal physical closeness was– well, Kyoutani had not been prepared. On the upside, Kyoutani could stare shamelessly at his captain. 

He was allowed to do that now, right? He thought he could probably get away with it, seeing as how Yahaba was apparently hungry for his attention. How the hell that’d happened, Kyoutani had not a single fucking clue, but he was going to abuse the privilege for as long as he could get away with it.

Current privilege: staring. At the way Yahaba's usually perfect hair stuck in random clumps to his forehead. Knowing that he must have been just as sweaty and gross as Kyoutani, but noticing he also smelled slightly of Oikawa's awful cologne. A lingering side effect of their former captains' overenthusiastic mauling. He got to admire how Yahaba practically glowed– in part from the light of the setting sun coming through the bus’ windows, and partly with smug satisfaction over trouncing Shiratorizawa. The glowing made those big honey eyes of his turn almost golden. It was sorta strange, how it made Yahaba all lovely and soft around the edges. You could almost forget he was a menace to humanity and as bitter as a lemon wedge. 

He spent long enough marveling at this demon child, and the sheer improbability of actually dating him, that it probably crossed the line into creepy. Long enough that he was startled to find that Yahaba had caught him looking, peeking at him sidelong through his lashes.

“See something you like?” Yahaba teased. 

Kyoutani had been played. He'd been played so good. Good enough he almost wasn’t mad about it. 

Tearing his eyes away, Kyoutani glared down at his hands and gruffly scoffed, "As if."

“Oh, come off it. You were totally staring.”

“I was wondering if I’d be able to hire an exorcist before our next game.”

Yahaba reached over and pinched Kyoutani’s thigh in retaliation, making him yelp and switch to glaring instead. “Fucking ow!”

“You’re so mean to your significant annoyance.” Yahaba complained. At least, Kyoutani had thought it complaining, until Yahaba finished shoving his notebook into his bag and Kyoutani caught him grinning like a sadist. 

Yahaba's attacking hand came back to rest on Kyoutani’s leg, letting his fingers drum idly. Kyoutani could feel the heat of his palms even through the fabric of his shorts, and wow, that was distracting. Kyoutani had reached his daily capacity of being able to deal, so he grabbed Yahaba’s hand. Just to get him to stop. Not because he wanted to hold Yahaba’s hand or anything. Only Yahaba started making this gross, softly fond face, and that was just too much. 

“Maybe I'd be nicer if the significant annoyance would stop cruising for a bruising in some insane ploy to get my attention.”

“Pfft, I didn’t need any extra help in wooing you.”

Wooing? Seriously? Why did he like this guy.

“Right, I forgot your fluffy hair powers of knowing everything about everyone," Kyoutani said, rolling his eyes.

"My what now?" Yahaba asked, equal parts perplexed and amused.

“Which makes me wonder: couldn’t you have asked me out like a normal person?" Kyoutani complained.

“That wouldn’t have been very on-brand for me.”

Kyoutani huffed in amusement but persisted, “You could’ve at least done something earlier, instead of trying to get beaten up by Shirtatorizawa and having a public argument about our relationship status.” 

Instead of the expected narcissistic comeback, Yahaba looked away from Kyoutani, cheeks a little pinker. Slouching down in the seat, he smushed his face into Kyoutani's shoulder and grumbled incoherently.

Holy shit, was Yahaba honest to god pouting? 

“But what if I was wrong? What if I miss-interpreted your signals?” Yahaba fretted, words a little muffled by his hiding place. “Maybe my bias was affecting my perception. I didn’t want it to negatively impact the team.”

 _“Fuck, that was cute,”_ Kyoutani though, mind addled. “You're such a mess,” was what slipped out of his traitor mouth.

Yahaba emerged from hiding to smile up at him, all obnoxious and knowing– and for once, Kyoutani was glad he was as easy to read as a picture book.

“Yeah, well, you like this mess. So what's that say about you?” Yahaba countered.

The part of his brain that was starting to sound suspiciously like Yahaba had him saying, “That I have a debilitating weakness for smart-mouth creampuffs, minor to moderate brain damage, and am possibly a masochist. It’s kind of a grab bag.”

Yahaba's resulting soft laughter managed to sound equally donkey-esque, just with the volume dialed down. It was still endearing.

“Kinky,” Yahaba teased, and shuffled to sit up straight to plaster himself against Kyoutani’s side properly again, then leaned in and kissed him on the corner of the mouth. Any potential retort from Kyoutani just ended in him sputtering like a (lovestruck) idiot. 

"God, how are you so cute?" Inexplicably, the asshole sounded exasperated about this fact. Which honestly seemed kinda rude in Kyoutani’s opinion. Yahaba’s next act of atrocity was to _boop him on the fucking nose_.

“I hate you,” Kyoutani snapped reflexively at his grinning asshat of a significant annoyance.

“No, you don’t.”

“No,” Kyoutani agreed sullenly. “I don’t.”

 _“Get a room, ”_ chorused Tetsu, Kunimi, and Kindaichi in a unified act of betrayal.

Watari’s ensuing fit of laughter was so bad he fell out of his seat and into the aisle way. Kyoutani could swear he heard Irihata chucking from the driver's seat, and even Tomio managed a slightly hysterical giggle.

“Don’t make me get the fucking glue out!” He shouted in warning, probably waking up anyone else who’d still been asleep.

Yahaba gave him a quizzical look. “Glue?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a wild ride folks. If this got you to laugh out loud at least one then I'll count this a win.
> 
> Here's a lil extra I cut out of Yahaba and Kyoutani fighting. It was really just a way for me to brainstorm a name for this chapter.  
> ****  
> “I shall title this game: The mighty eagles reduced to simple swans,” Yahaba declared proudly.  
> “Ugh. If you're gonna be so you about it, at least pick a less shitty name.”  
> “Clipping the eagles wings?” Yahaba suggested.  
> “Lame.”  
> "The lament of the new flightless birds?"  
> “Ew, that’s even worse"  
> “Seijoh wastes a team of trash babies with horrible haircuts?”  
> Kyoutani's answering ferocious grin would probably make even the hellspawn Saito's quake in fear.  
> “That’s a name I can get behind.”  
> ****
> 
> "Is this truly the end?" you might be asking.  
> "But I need more rabid KyouHaba nonsense!" you might say.
> 
> I am happy to introduce: Come at Me Bro, a crack quarantine collection  
> Because I've got 5000+ content/ideas/one liners I never got the chance to use and zero impulse control. As long as I'm stuck at home I might as well keep myself entertained.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's a particular line or insult or something that makes you laugh I'd love it if you'd share it with me! :)))) Like, you don't even need to leave a real review, just a repeat of the phrase would make me exponentially happy!!! No pressure tho.


End file.
